Personal essays
That’s ok, I’m not in a hurry
Driving
I was leaving the gym the other day and stopped at a four way stop. I started to turn left - yes I was signaling properly - when I saw another car approach the intersection.
I was moving and she hadn’t yet stopped but I knew there was about to be a problem. The woman sort of braked and then continued straight and leaned on her horn and yelled at me that straight had the right of way.
Answering her would have been like arguing back with someone on the internet, so I let it go.
I’m almost never in a rush but I’m surrounded by people who think they are.
Driving home I came to a stop-light that wasn’t working. The lights were all out.
Where I live, the law is that we treat it as a four way stop. So I came to a stop and the cars on the cross street inched forward and the first one went through the intersection as you should.
Meanwhile a car approached from behind in the lane to my right and didn’t bother to stop. They just went through the intersection. Luckily for them, it was our turn and so nothing happened.
I remember reading about an old Burma Shave roadside ad that read, “Don’t lose your head to gain a minute. You need your head, your brains are in it.”
And so, except when I really am in a hurry, I tend not to rush.
Where are these people rushing off to? What is it that is calling to them?
Places to go. People to meet.
Not enough time.
Perception
The other night, one of the Cleveland Cavaliers (basketball) came off the bench and scored 28 points. Only one player on either team scored more than he did.
If you’ve ever heard a basketball player describe a night like that, they say that the basket just looks bigger to them that night.
Everything they throw up seems to go in.
I feel that way about time now.
In kind of a weird twist that the older I get the less I’m worried about time.
I would say “ironic” instead of “weird” but it’s not at all like rain on your wedding day or a free ride when you’ve already paid.
When I was young, I was in so much more of a hurry.
Age
I know that you can die at any time - believe me I know that more than most - but as statistically my life stretched in front of me I was in a hurry to get to where I thought the good stuff was.
Now I look back and see that I needed to put my time in doing crappy overnight shifts at the radio station before I had enough experience to work seven to midnight. I had to work in smaller markets before I had enough hours where I could work in a major market and even then I would have to go back to the crappy overnight shifts and work my way back up.
Every step forward gave me the experience to take the next step and at the next step I might have to back up a bit.
It’s like driving a shift car. When you shift into a higher speed, the RPMs decreases and you temporarily slow down a bit as you continue to accelerate.
No one drives a shift car anymore.
How about a bicycle?
You can’t ride a bicycle if you’re in a rush.
I love being my age. I mostly don’t mind the steps backwards because I get to work with interesting people on interesting projects while I build the trust of the teams I’m working with.
At my age, I am aware that I have limited time left and that informs which jobs I take on.
There was a recent job at Apple that I was interested in. But Apple doesn’t let you speak at conferences or write books and I figured that at my age I couldn’t work for Apple for a while and then reestablish a career of speaking and writing so I didn’t apply.
I am speaking at three conferences in three countries in the next six weeks. This summer I’ll update a book or two and write a new one.
I love the life I’m living and don’t want to rush past the things I’m doing to get to the next thing.
I’m enjoying being here and now.
That said, I’m probably not going to let you go ahead of me in line for coffee - I’m just getting a simple drip coffee while you’re probably getting one of those fancy things where they draw a picture of a heart on the top in foam.
I’m mostly not in a rush but there’s a limit.
But if I’m behind you, I don’t mind waiting while they fetch your something made with organic oat milk, and can you use air from Paris to foam it with.
I’m not in a rush.
Essay from Dim Sum Thinking Newsletter 265. Read the rest of the Newsletter or subscribe